Besides
by Ijin
Summary: A humble tribute to Rosie B's Beside You In Time; Ch.03 - Triberg 1649 - the evening of the ball
1. Chapter 1

London, 1597

**This is a work of fanfiction, based on the anime and manga series Inuyasha by Rumiko Takahashi, which still belongs to her, not to me, of course.**

This is a short story inspired by **RosieB**'s _Beside You in Time_ Inuyasha fanfiction. You can assume it all happens between chapter 2 and 3 of her story. It's a kind of fanfiction to a fanfiction if you like. RosieB's characters remain her own, of course. You hear? I did not invent them! It was all her!

Sorry to all Shakespeare-philes for liberties I took with him, his sexual orientation, the things he says and the way he behaves and looks. I tried to be as gentle as possible. I happen to like him myself, although he's the one who wrote the ending to _Taming of the Shrew_.

Words, expressions and characters used here were stolen from: William Shakespeare, Terry Pratchett, Rumiko Takahashi, many others. Also much thanks to Wikipedia and many other sites for their articles about: The Admiral's men, The Chamberlain's men, Ben Jonson, William Shakespeare, Shakespeare Sonnets (especially 144 and 149), tomatoes, Shakespeare plays, Earl of Southampton, Rubens, Rembrandt, Brueghel, Elizabeth I Regina, The Great Plague and The Fire of London, the Stuarts, Cromwell, the Glorious Revolution, the French Revolution, and many more. Also: _Fairs of Elizabethan England_ by Margaret T. Hodgen. Certain character inspiration comes from a dialogue Romeo and Juliet, but it's very obscure, I dare you to find it.

I realised that writing historical fiction forces a writer to do a lot of research (I know, for instance, that I should've done more for this one): hat off to you RosieB, for wanting to write a long historical fic.

**Warning**: This story plays in Elizabethan London. Expect sex, cannibalism, alcohol, bestiality, bad dress sense, racism, violence, feces, diseases, bad Shakespeare quotes, bad use of 2nd person singular pronouns and verb conjugation. And Yaoi. If you don't find any of the above then read again. If you find them all, go see Freud.

**And finally, sorry about the long author's note.**

* * *

**London, 1597**

She threaded her way through the crowd and tried to keep her expression neutral under the bonnet she was wearing to conceal her foreign face from inquisitive eyes. By now, she spoke English quite well, understood what people spoke, but still looked as always. Potentially, she knew, she would look the way she looked now for centuries.

The way from the house she lived in now to the city was rather lengthy, mostly undertaken by boat on the Thames, but today she had walked here. She wasn't on an errand, just wanted to pass some time and go shopping for a while. Leaning on a house, she spotted a book stall, to which she turned, avoiding a large woman with a live hen in her basket and her teenaged daughter, who fiddled with the long skirts of her dress. Now that she had the time to read more, she liked to look for books and little pamphlets that were printed in London.

She looked through the quartos and the occasional folio, printed on dirty whitish paper, fingered a Holy Bible. She knew that buying and preserving a few of those for three or four hundred years could potentially make her very rich in the long run, but mostly she bought and read the books whenever she could afford them, for fun and education, trying to understand the way renaissance people thought and lived. Next to the book stall a Dutch painter offered his services with a few paintings leaning on the house wall. She looked through a stack of paintings there; saw some rather good Holbein reproductions, a portrait of Henry VIII and some of his wives Anne and Jane. If she really wanted to get rich, she supposed, she should go to the Netherlands in a few years, and wait for Rembrandt to be born, or go now to seduce Rubens into painting her. She looked down on her own skinny body… no, Rubens would most probably not be tempted. But perhaps a Brueghel painting could be located in Brussels and bought for an affordable price... a girl needed to plan for a long future, after all.

A light tap on her shoulder brought her back to reality. The painter smiled at her in a kind of self-assured way good-looking men tend to have, and said:

"I've never seen a face like yours, Mistress…?"

Kagome smiled faintly, taking a step back. He was blond and blue-eyed, tall and well-built, and dressed in a way that almost certainly broke the Sumptuary Laws in some way. He looked like he still had all his teeth. Inwardly, she grinned. How the criteria changed with times.

Noticing her silence, he continued: "Your face! The stuff dreams are made on! How I would like to paint you! Will you allow me to do it? Your eyes are irresistible."

She shook her head, unwilling to leave a trace of her existence in these times, but tempted, and flattered, too.

The bookseller from the nearby stall, a good-looking dark haired fellow with green eyes, strolled over to them, and made a complicated bow to Kagome.

"You certainly should not waste time with this scoundrel, Mistress," he said. "He is known to flatter all the pretty ladies that come to his stall."

"What, sir, thou standest in mine sun!" the painter exclaimed and stepped between the newcomer and Kagome, who made an effort not to giggle. Those two seemed to have lots of fun even without her; the whole scene looked like an old game to both of them. When she turned to go, both men pleaded with her not to, not before she at least bought something, and told them her name, and promised her hand in marriage.

"I am Reinecke the Painter," the painter said "the spawn of the devil over there is Reynard the Bookseller."

"Do not concern yourself with the knave, Mistress," the Bookseller said. "Do tell us your name."

"Kagome," she said. "I should leave, I'm afraid."

"You cannot leave us now, Mistress Kagome," Reynard said and turned her in direction of his books, away from Reinecke. "Look here, I see you are an interested reader, how about this little volume of tragedies? I went to see the Admiral's Men several days ago, and wrote down all the words as I heard them myself! Young Ben Jonson wrote most of them, I'm told."

"You're a rogue, that's what you are!" the painter said, pushing Kagome gently back to his paintings. "Look here, dearest Mistress Kagome, a painting of our beloved Queen's sainted Mother, by the great Holbein himself."

"By the great Reinecke, you mean," the bookseller said. "You're painting those by the dozen, one worse than the other."

"Gentle sirs," Kagome started. "I should…"

"We should catch a play in Shoreditch?" Reinecke said, without missing a beat. "Only you and I," he added. "Your virtue couldn't be safer than in a large crowd in the theatre? Lord Chamberlain's Men are playing A Midsommer Nights Dreame tonight. We should go, and perhaps you will allow me to, uh, buy you some gingerbread and treat you to a pint of ale afterwards?"

"What could be more proper than _two_ gentlemen escorting a young lady?" Reynard said. "I shall treat you to a baked apple, my lady, and sweet Spanish wine."

"Spanish wine?" Reinecke said suspiciously. "Art thou in league with the Spaniards now, knave?"

"Art thou not from the Spanish province of Netherlands, knave?" Reynard answered, to which Reinecke grinned and offered his hand.

"Peace, neighbour!" he said.

And so, although Kagome knew very well that she should not go forth with two men she did not know, she did. They were a funny pair, and she felt like she had outgrown most of the dangers that could befall a young woman of her age – her age! Somehow, too, she felt safe with these two good-looking young men.

The two put away their merchandise in a storeroom they, as she found out, rented together, and then walked with her up to Shoreditch, not a short way from the river where they stood. Westminster in their back, they walked slowly through the smelly city. For a short while they were not quite sure whether the play was staged at _The Theatre_ or at _The Curtain_, until Reynard finally remembered that _The Theatre_ had closed a year ago. Soon they arrived at the venue, where a large crowd was waiting to enter. It was midsummer's night, and the play was accurately chosen, and Kagome almost died for disappointment, because she thought they wouldn't get tickets, and she wouldn't get to see a genuine Shakespeare play with Shakespeare on stage. Especially since Midsummer Night's Dream hadn't been on the program since last summer, and she hadn't thought she would get to see it at all.

Reynard produced one of his complicated bows again and disappeared in the crowd with a reassured smile on his face. Kagome saw the back of his dark head, and then it vanished from sight.

"No worries, Mistress Kagome," Reinecke said. "He will get us into the house tonight. May I get you something to drink, meanwhile?"

"Do you think Mr. Shakespeare will be on the stage tonight?" Kagome asked.

Reinecke laughed.

"Not quite!" he said. "Perhaps he'll sit in the audience with young Henry Wriothesley and his new favourite, the Lord Spenser."

Kagome bleached, but Reinecke went on:

"If I know Reynard at all, he'll probably get us seats where you'll sit right next to Mr. Shakespeare. How would you like that?"

"Oglhr-g-reat," Kagome mumbled in the cup of ale he'd given her.

Perhaps this Lord Spenser was not _her_ Lord Spenser. Who was she kidding? Of course it would be Sesshoumaru. He was a veritable Shakespeare fanboy these days, spending time with him and hoarding the man's plays and sonnets. Sometimes she thought Sesshoumaru did not need her to point out things and people which would become important in the future, because he seemed to know anyway. On the other hand, Reinecke was probably making fun when he said that Reynard would find them seats right next to the Burbage seats. They would be lucky to get in at all! And even if they did, they would probably be so far from the stage that Sesshoumaru would never see her. Not that she feared him seeing her, but she felt it would be awkward.

She looked up and noticed that Reinecke was sniffing her hair. When he saw himself caught, he grinned unselfconsciously and shrugged. For the briefest of moments, he reminded her of someone, a face, a memory she hadn't thought of in a long time, and yet was always on her mind.

"Shall we get you a fan, milady?" he asked, and offered her his arm. Together they strolled here and there between the stalls and the hawkers. The place was rather crowded, and Kagome could hear scraps of conversations around her.

"My boy Johnny says Burbage's almost done with _The Globe_… moving in next year…"

"I bet the man is shaking his spear at Southampton, heh, heh…"

"Honeyed dates! Oh, you shouldn't have!"

"I've gotten three right next to the Burbage seats, is that alright for you, Mistress Kagome?"

Kagome found herself looking into Reynard's smiling face, and sighed.

"You really are something, Master Reynard," she said, inwardly groaning.

How did this man manage to get them the best seats in the house? She should be welcoming her good luck, but her good luck was somewhat dampened by the prospect of sitting way too close for comfort to _Lord Spenser_ on her free day!

They made their way to the entrance. Kagome kept close to Reinecke and kept her eyes on her pockets where she hid some of her allowance and a knife. Once they were stuck in the crowd, waiting for entry, she found herself wedged firmly between the two men. Reynard bowed down to her ear and pointed out to her some interesting people; a man missing half his nose, and two youngish women, whose affections were negotiable, and between smiling and nodding, Kagome noticed that he, too, tried to catch her smell. Now she felt somewhat creeped out.

"Please, stop that," she said, and he indeed stood upright again.

"I must apologise, Mistress Kagome, but…"

"You have something about you, something that appeals…" Reinecke fell in.

"… to us." finished Reynard. "I cannot say whether it is your smell. Be not worried, though, no harm will come to you from us."

"Your virtue is safe, as is your life," Reinecke said. "Look, it's going forward!"

They went forward, and Kagome followed, quietly looking at their faces. The one was fair, the other dark, but still they looked alike, not like brothers, but now, in the half-darkness of the entrance, their faces were pointy and fierce, with black holes for eyes, alive with spirit and roguishness. They looked, Kagome conceded, like they belonged to the same… species… which was odd, because, presumably, they belonged to the same species as she.

They entered the theatre and were ushered to their places, and as promised, the both of them, now looking less pointy to Kagome in the increased light of the torches and candles around the stage, sat her right next to the seat where Shakespeare might sit as soon as he came in. Kagome tensed in her seat, but smiled a strained smile, thinking that, once again, her curiosity and lack of prudence had brought her into an awkward situation.

Soon, the house filled, the audience loud and bawdy. Kagome saw people carrying what looked like a picnic to enjoy during the show. She was so caught up in looking around that she did not notice that the seats to her left had occupants, until she turned around again and came face to back with her own _Lord Spenser_ – and stilled.

He did not look at her, although she knew that he was aware of her – how could he not be? He saw everything. His attention was on his companions, a balding man in his early thirties perhaps and a somewhat younger man with reddish blond hair and the face of an angel.

Reinecke, from behind her back, whispered: "That's Earl of Southampton, Henry Wriothesley."

Kagome looked at the man who sat directly next to Sesshoumaru and had his hand on Sesshoumaru's knee and kept putting it there despite _Lord Spenser's_ best efforts to remove it. To see the great demon lord so brought a smile to her lips. She wondered whether Sesshoumaru was holding back from killing him because it would mean killing one of the most famous authors of all time or because he actually liked Shakespeare.

Then Sesshoumaru turned his head to look at her. Kagome knew this yellow look that, on bad days, managed to reduce her to nothing. He was not angry at all, just slightly surprised and annoyed at seeing her sitting right next to him in a theatre, in a seat she probably could not afford. His gaze briefly went to her companions, and his lids twitched almost imperceptibly in irritation – Kagome only saw it because she was so intensely focused on him.

"Good evening, Lord Spenser," she croaked. He nodded. From behind his shoulder, his seating neighbour demanded that he introduce her.

"This is a servant of my house," Sesshoumaru said arrogantly. Kagome, gnashing her teeth, nodded in their general direction. "Her name is Kagome, I think."

"Your servant, My Lord? I'd remember her name if she were my _servant_," Wriothesley pitched in with a laugh. Kagome could not read his pretty face, but despite his not quite respectable joke he seemed friendly. Behind her, her fair and dark escorts leaned closer.

"Who are you talking to, Mistress Kagome?" Reynard asked.

"Shakespeare," said Shakespeare and nodded to them.

"Reynard the Bookseller. If you ever feel like publishing your plays, I have a printing press."

Shakespeare sighed. "Everyone wants me to print something these days. Why don't you just write everything down and print it under your own name, just like every other fly-bitten scut in this town."

"No need to be a churl tonight, Will," Wriothesley said, and Shakespeare smiled a little wearily.

"No, I wouldn't. And my apologies to you, Mistress, for my lapse."

Kagome sputtered, but he had turned away his attention to Sesshoumaru, who was still intently looking at Reinecke and Reynard. His companion asked something and pulled his sleeve, and he turned slowly, not without baring his pointy teeth at both of them first.

As soon as it could be assumed that everyone in the audience had taken their seats, some of the lights in the auditorium were extinguished, and Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate and some other people entered the stage.

The performance proved to be fascinating and repulsive to Kagome at the same time. Theseus was a large man with a booming voice, while Hippolyta was a thin, very young man who spoke in a high falsetto voice. More people came on the stage, left again. All the women's roles were played by men. The audience did not get much quieter, so to be heard, the actors on the stage had to speak very loudly. In Kagome's view, the acting was terrible. The men on the stage were overacting and making the audience laugh with bawdy impromptu jokes. A look to the right showed her that her Dynamic Duo was immensely entertained by the play. A look to the left showed her that Sesshoumaru's attention was firmly focused on her Dynamic Duo.

She nudged him very slightly, as not to receive a punishing punch or something alike from him. He paid her no attention.

She sighed and tried to watch Shakespeare instead. He was concentrating deeply on the happenings on the stage, sometimes moving his mouth with the lines the actors spoke on the stage. Wriothesley next to him stroked his moustache and when he saw that Kagome was looking around; he caught her eye and winked at her. She felt herself turning red, just like one of those new Love Apples that had been brought from the Americas and _Gerard's Herbal_ claimed were poisonous.

Sesshoumaru instantly turned his head to the young man and gave him a look, then resumed his observation of Reinecke and Reynard, who were laughing with the rest of the audience, shouting out to the actors and decimating the honeyed dates one of them had bought. Wriothesley immediately turned to the stage, as if under compulsion. Had Sesshoumaru just intimidated the Earl of Southampton into not flirting with her? Why ever would he do that? And why was he looking at her friends with such animosity?

Reinecke then put an arm around Kagome's shoulder. She didn't mind, and laughed when he whispered silly things about Titania's manly attitude into her ear and fed her dates in irregular intervals. She felt Sesshoumaru next to her become tense, but she decided that she didn't care, and concentrated on the glory and horror of Elizabethan theatre, until Puck delivered his apology to the audience.

Kagome was still completely in awe and horror from her first taste of theatre when Reinecke pulled her to her feet. Holding both her hands in his, he said:

"You ought to go dancing with us, Mistress Kagome. Next week, at the fair down in Greenwich? Say you'll come."

Reynard came to her other side. "Let's go find somewhere to sit and drink and chat. The night is still young."

Kagome looked at Sesshoumaru and found that he was also leaving his seat, the back of his dark blue doublet turned to her. Since she had probably just kissed her reputation goodbye anyway, by attending a theatre play, she might as well go have some more fun. She had no idea why she'd thought that Sesshoumaru might object, or even care where she was going. She turned away briskly and let herself be escorted to the exit. They dodged a fight that had broken out between some men in the audience, and Kagome saw how Reynard, pretending innocence, pushed a not very nice smelling man who seemed aggressively to want to discuss things with him face-forward into a heap of horse droppings. A small laugh escaped her, and they ran the other way, finding themselves at the edge of the slowly dissolving crowd.

"That was very entertaining, you two," Kagome laughed. "The evening, not the brawl."

"Are you coming with us to the Bear and the Boar Tavern?" Reynard asked, and she nodded. She was certainly old enough to drink. Even while she was nodding, she sensed a wave of cold disapproval, something she had gotten used to by now.

"What ho, Mistress, I do hope you are planning on taking us with you," young Henry Wriothesley said, coming closer. Right after him came Shakespeare, Sesshoumaru bringing up the rear. His gaze went over Kagome, pausing very shortly on her, to rest firmly and coldly on the blonde and dark heads next to Kagome.

"The first time Spenser here has allowed to drag him along to a tavern, can you imagine? This man is dry as a desert," the playwright said with a surprisingly captivating little smirk. "And then we find you again, dear Mistress Kagome, in this large crowd. A happy coincidence we went this way, Spenser, as you suggested."

As one, they moved to Bear and the Boar which was just around the corner. Reynard walked right next to Sesshoumaru.

"Do you believe in coincidences, milord?" he asked quietly.

"Firmly," Sesshoumaru said. Reynard laughed.

In the dark night of the streets that was only poorly illuminated by the occasional torch, Kagome noticed that both her friends had this pointy look to them again. While Sesshoumaru seemed unimpressed, Shakespeare and his patron Wriothesley unconsciously walked a little faster in front of them, talking and not looking back.

She was relieved when they reached the tavern that had a sign over the door showing a bear and a boar, although the sign somehow reminded her somewhat of a giant duck eating a piece of bread rather than what it proposed to be.

Just before she entered, she saw people outside warming their hands with their breath and heard a man say that it was a chill summer night. She realised it had been a long time since she had felt real cold or heat – or rather, she did feel it, but neither bothered her in the way it had before.

Inside, she saw banks and rough-hewn tables, straw mats on the floor to soak up ale spills and worse, dogs who stood to attention when Sesshoumaru ducked his head to fit under the door. Reynard came in right behind him and winked at Kagome.

"He'll be right in," he said, meaning his friend, the painter. "Just getting rid of something outside." Shakespeare laughed at that.

The smell was terrible, and got worse when they all sat down. Kagome found herself between the Earl of Southampton and the playwright, ale in front of her. Thrilled to sit right next to one of the greatest authors in history – at least one who became famous enough to get carried on by generations of an aggressive, dominant, conquering culture to every corner of the world – she set out to question him about his life and work. She was horrified when she found out that he hadn't yet written a play about murder and madness in Denmark, nor the one about murder, madness and witchcraft in Scotland, just when she had been about to discuss it with him at length. At least she could remember that an unauthorised quarto edition of Romeo and Juliet had come out earlier that year, much to Shakespeare's anger. She suspected that the source of this poorly written edition might be sitting in the same room as they, and flirting with the serving wench, who obviously liked his dark hair, green eyes and the complicated bow he performed for her when she brought more ale.

Shakespeare joked from behind his tankard and called Kagome "dark lady" and a naughty girl and promised he'd send over a sonnet to her. She decided to keep this evening in her mind when she went back to being Sesshoumaru's "servant" again. Reinecke, who had come inside a bit later, played a counting game with her and tried to sniff her fingers until Lord Spenser accidentaly spilled his beer over his trouser leg.

Eventually, the mood wound down to a drowsy sleepiness. Kagome did not feel drunk, just a little tired when she decided that she would like to walk back home. She got on her feet. Wriothesley blinked at her, Shakespeare leaning against him and snoring softly.

"Guess we should ask if there's a room here for us to sleep," he murmured.

"I'm going home," Kagome decreed. Sesshoumaru got up immediately, startling her with his swiftness. Reinecke and Reynard decided that they wanted to go, too, and would come with her to protect her on her way.

They made sure Wriothesley and Shakespeare had a safe bed for the night, then turned to go. She was surprised when Sesshoumaru made clear that he would join them instead of staying with his friends, but she did not argue. He had been odd the whole evening.

"We'll call on your next week, Spenser," Wriothesley said.

"Wher' you all going?" Shakespeare asked drowsily.

"The dark lady is taking the fair youth away, Will," Wriothesley joked.

"I'll write a sonnet about it," Shakespeare said. Kagome laughed and, encouraged by the playwright's helpless state, she spontaneously bowed down and gave him a kiss on the cheek before they left the inn.

Outside, the night's darkest hour was full of stars, despite the fog that gathered in narrow corners on the ground. Kagome was leading the way, the other three coming after her. No one spoke. She gradually became aware of the tension behind her back. If she had eyes in the back of her head, she was sure that all of the three males walking behind her would look pointy again, perhaps even hairy, with black holes for eyes and predator teeth in their mouths.

She slowed down slightly, so that Reinecke was at the same height as her. He caught her arm to walk with her and bowed his head down to her hair, forgetting where he was. He inhaled, frowned a little.

"It's not the smell," he murmured to himself.

A pale arm with extended claws and stripes landed on his shoulder before the nails buried themselves into his skin, right through his clothes.

Kagome saw Sesshoumaru's camouflage spell slip when he turned Reinecke to him. Before he could do or say anything, Reynard jumped between them and slapped Sesshoumaru's hand away.

"Stand back, cur," he snarled. "He's done nothing to you."

Sesshoumaru snarled, allowing his mask to slip completely. "What are you?" he asked.

Reynard put an arm around Kagome and put his nose right under her ear. "It really isn't the smell," he agreed. Still not feeling in the least imperilled, she had to suppress a giggle, because his nose was tickling her.

"Shall we feel insulted, cousin?" Reinecke asked Reynard. "He's our own kin, and does not recognise us in the least."

Reynard laughed. "Ah, but he is a lesser fox, cousin, only a dog."

Sesshoumaru relaxed slightly, especially when he saw that Kagome's instincts still refused to find the young men dangerous. She looked from one to the other.

"Tricksters!" she said and nudged Reinecke away from her. "I should have known!"

Reynard shifted a little, then some more, shrinking down to a much smaller size.

"Kitsune!" Sesshoumaru stated, in Kagome's opinion quite needlessly.

"Vos," Reinecke supplied, in Dutch. "The red fox. The humans have started hunting us for sport, with dogs, so we thought, why not hide and wait? I like London."

Kagome crouched down to bring her face down to the fox and stroke his luxurious fur. Reynard, in his four-legged form, almost began salivating in bliss. Reinecke quickly morphed into his animal shape and circled her.

"I should have known you have a penchant for tricksters," Sesshoumaru said in resignation.

"Now I know why I've felt so good with the two of you today," Kagome said. "You remind me of someone."

"They are not to be trusted," Sesshoumaru decreed. "You will not pick up every stray in this city if you want our association to continue."

Reynard turned back into his human form and picked Kagome up, holding her in his arms like a princess who had tripped over something, possibly a fox. Reinecke joined him a second later in his human form, looking fiercely at Sesshoumaru.

"Not a problem," he said. "We're going to take care of Mistress Kagome."

She struggled to stand on her own feet, feeling quite ridiculous.

"Really," she said, smoothing down her skirts when she stood on the ground between the silly canines. "You need not fear for me. Lord Se… Spenser needs me too much to let me go just like that. And I'll be staying in London for a while so you needn't fear not seeing me," she added. "I'll be around for a _long_ time."

"But he just said… and there is this thing in you…"

Kagome smiled.

"When I left the country of my birth, my child gave me a present. He…"

"You left your child?" Reinecke asked, appalled.

"He was grown up. It was time," she said with hurt in her voice.

"How old could he be?" Reynard asked. "You're a child yourself."

Kagome laughed. "I'm older than you'd think. Ask Lord Spenser."

"I'm not asking the dog anything!" Reynard said. "He's not to threaten you."

"My child left me with a special present: the love of foxes. He was a little fox demon when we found each other, and now he is grown up, perhaps on his way to found a family of his own. You have no choice but to love me. Now that you know, you're free to leave." And she turned towards Sesshoumaru who was standing in the half-dark of a building, his face in the shadows.

"Mistress Kagome!"

"Yes?" she said, without turning.

"It's not only the love of foxes, but also the love you have for foxes, right? We're going to the fair together next week?"

She smiled in relief. "If my lord grants me a day off," she said, and continued walking. She did not look back, but she felt how they shape-shifted once again, and ran down to the river, where they, presumably, had their lodgings.

She came to stand in front of Sesshoumaru and looked up at his face with the crescent moon.

"I will collect as many strays as I like, Lord Sesshoumaru," she said. "The love of foxes and anyone else who might come my way. You'll see it's not only nice for me, but also useful for you. It's good to have friends, people who will tell you the news, and give you a present from time to time, maybe come around on your birthday and throw you in the air until you get hiccups from laughing. Get you out of jail, feed you and hide you and teach you, slap you when you need it and perhaps even hug you. You'll see," she said when he did not attempt to answer.

She took his hand in hers experimentally and saw him flinch. She let it fall again and started to walk, nodding contentedly when he turned to walk with her. It was to be a long hike to his home outside town.

She talked to keep herself awake, and because she did not like silence. Sesshoumaru was big on silence.

"… and perhaps you should start studying German when you've learned French... I'll read up on anatomy, maybe learn Latin?… I'm interested in medicine… probably should not claim to see germs until they've been discovered by, uh, someone… but I'm interested in herbal medicines… did you know that they're burning witches here? I wouldn't like that… if we live to the 19th century, I swear I'll take you to Vienna to see Freud… who Freud is?... let me tell you one thing… you _need_ that man… yeah, I like Chinese noodles… I wish I could make some… actually, do we have wheat flour? I could cook some Japanese food, perhaps… where do we get soy sauce at this time of the millennium?... maybe we should move to Paris soon… I'd like that eventually… "

They didn't read books together, and they did not discuss them at breakfast either. But they both loved books. And if she cooked ramen, maybe he'd eat them, even if he did not sit down at the table with her. Kagome looked toward the east, where the fog was getting lighter. Sometimes she did not know whether she even wanted to make a companion of Sesshoumaru. On the other hand, she knew that everyone else would die away or change, and that he probably was the only constant left in her life, that they had to hang on to each other, like it or not.

The next day, it was a Sunday, Kagome received a sheet of paper, folded and sealed, with a sonnet numbered 144, and laughed while she read it. Meanwhile, Sesshoumaru unfolded a sheet of paper from the same sender. On it, he read two lines. The poet spoke his own words:

_Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,  
When I against myself with thee partake?_


	2. Chapter 2

This is a tribute to **RosieB**'s story _**Beside You in Time**_; it comes after the 5th chapter of her story.

**Of course, it is also an Inuyasha fanfiction, and Inuyasha, as we all know, belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and regrettably, not me.**

**Note**: There is nothing better in the world than North Indian food.

**Note also**: For all the Hindi vocabulary, there is a glossary at the end.

**Many thanks to**: Wikipedia and many other sites for their articles on Hindu weddings, Rajputi weddings, Rajasthani clothing, the Koh-i-noor Sikh community and customs, Jaisalmer, Amritsar, Himachal Pradesh, Punjab and many other interesting details.

**Beware**: bad jokes, Sesshoumaru humour, random bad Hindi, former history major resurfacing.

**Don't forget to review!**

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**Jaisalmer 1631**

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She looked out through a slit in the shuttered window of the haveli and saw nothing but yellow sand and heat. Midday hour in Jaisalmer, the golden city. Everyone else, everyone with some sense, was asleep or at least resting.

Kagome fiddled with the thin, richly embroidered dupatta she wore on her head and covered her face from just about anyone. While her clothes were elaborate and beautiful, she resented the need to cover herself from the world. At least she didn't have to wear a black tent over her nice skirt and choli. Still, she had to observe strict purdah, and there was no going out alone for her – she had to bring her dog along whenever she walked out in the streets.

Said Dog was on his back on a double bed that was too short for him, like all standard beds tended to be, but he fitted quite nicely with his head in the left corner by the headrest and the feet in the right corner at the foot of the bed. She stayed with the unmarried girls, _because they had to keep up appearances_.

The Rajasthani heat outside forced her to sit inside doing nothing, so she took up the red notebook from her pillow and reviewed what they had accomplished yesterday. Sesshoumaru did business with Kishanlal Nawandhar, whose guests they were now, and she faithfully wrote everything down. He had offered her to act as his sister this time, giving no explanations why. At first she suspected him of chivalry; in this place where they knew no-one and the people weren't used to their ways, where explaining why he had a female secretary was out of the question, she would be target for gossip and possibly treated badly, so he… offered she may, this one time, act as his sister. Of course, she soon found out that the Nawandhar family had several charming daughters, one of which they wished to offer Sesshoumaru as a bride. She wondered why the taiyoukai would want to spare the Nawandhars the embarrassment and provide himself with an excuse, but then let it go: she was on his side. So she, as his only female "relative" dutifully took a look at the girls, talked to their mothers and tried to snake around actually promising Sesshoumaru's hand in marriage to some pretty human teenager.

A soft knock on the door distracted her from her musings; it was Vidyalakshmi, the 13-year-old daughter of Kishanlal's younger brother Raj. Apparently a churiya-walla was outside in the courtyard selling bangles to all the silly girls, and she was to join, too, if she wanted. Then she ran off again, her anklets chiming in the rhythm of her feet. Kagome's arms were covered almost to the elbow in golden bangles, but, she reasoned, a woman could never have enough of those, so she took them off, put on her chappal and soon joined the six young girls and women surrounding the churiya-walla. She came with a smile, tried on some bangles and also bought some after arguing the price down, but then gave them all away as a gift to the girls. Shruti and Priya, Kishanlal's twin daughters and prospective brides for Sesshoumaru both gave her a hug, Vidyalakshmi ran to proudly show off the bangles to her little brother, and the others teased her that she ought to keep some for herself, otherwise she would never get married.

Soon, the heat faded away a little as the sun wandered further toward the west and left the courtyard in shadow. While girls trickled away one by one to get ready for the mehendi ceremony which would start a little later, Kagome stood right next to the door and stared at the tiles on the floor. The sound of the churiya-walla tying up his shop and walking to the door brought her back to reality; she pulled on her scarf and covered her face some more. The only girl left in the court was Priya.

"Sometimes I see things, bahinji," she said quietly to her, opening the front door to leave. "Someone is coming, and you will smile again; not because of him, but you will smile." Kagome turned around to ask more, but her intent gaze fell on the girl's back, and she let it go.

* * *

Raj's elder daughter Nidhi was graceful like a gazelle, with masses of dark silky hair and soulful dark eyes, fair skin and a lush mouth, but when Kagome came to call her to join her mehendi; she was crying said soulful eyes out. It turned out, after Kagome asked, that Nidhi was afraid of getting married.

Of course, the poor girl had never been asked whether she wanted to get married at all, but, as Kagome found out after inquiring, Nidhi did not think that she should be allowed to choose a husband for herself, '_because it wasn't done_' and anyway, she didn't know any men she was not related to, and her parents did know best, it was only, _she was afraid_. Kagome sighed, wondered what she could say about marriage that rang true and that wouldn't send the girl screaming in fear.

"Well, you can think of it as getting to know someone new and interesting, how is that?" she said and patted the girl's back while trying to dab her cheeks dry with a piece of her dupatta that wasn't covered in embroidery. With an afterthought, she added:

"And you'll get to do what you want, without your mother admonishing you." Nidhi nodded thoughtfully, and Kagome regretted her impulse immediately. _Instead, your husband AND your mother-in-law will do the job_, she thought. _Here is Kagome Higurashi, ninety-nine years old. Do not listen to her advice on love and marriage, because she is completely clueless_.

"Shall we go get you painted, sweet rain on the desert, Nidhi-bahin??" Nidhi laughed at that, collected her scarf and joined Kagome. "You must allow them to put mehendi on your hands, too, didi," the girl insisted on their way out. "You'll look ravishing. You'll glow even more than you do now." Nidhi gave her a look which made Kagome think for a second that maybe she meant it literally, but no, it couldn't be true.

They walked together to the stairs leading to the upper floor where the bedrooms were, and sat down with the other women, who took Nidhi into their midst. They chatted, and painted patterns on their skin, and waited for them to dry. Servants brought hot chai, then some more, and also chaat, and Kagome smiled and talked and was her own everyday self everybody liked until the mehendi traces on her skin were done and she excused herself to go to her room. Then she changed her mind and went to see her "brother" instead.

Sesshoumaru pretended that the heat didn't agree with him; but actually it was the lively atmosphere in the house. He kept dodging everyone's attempts at befriending him and drawing him into the mad activity that was the wedding preparations. His business in Jaisalmer really must be important to him, she thought, for him to spend days and days on end in such close contact with so many humans, who were sorely testing his stoicism.

She wondered whether he counted her among the humans who were getting on his nerves, and decided that, at least at the moment, it must be so. He was a very private demon, after all. The sooner they left the better.

Kagome let her scarf fall to the floor while it came to her mind that she had forgotten her shoes on the stairs, because her feet were also covered in mehendi. Her eyes went to the moody demon. He sat on a silken cushion and looked up to see her enter in the last rays of the fading sun.

"Immersing yourself?" he asked. "I am invited to join the men tomorrow evening. There will be dancing," he said with a tone of dread in his voice so obvious that she was able notice, even though his face did not change expression.

"Do you like the mehendi?" she asked and showed him the drying paint. "There is entertainment for the ladies as well tomorrow evening. I am quite sure there will be dancing, too."

Sesshoumaru straightened his short white kurta over the dhoti. He looked at the lines of dark henna on her arms for a moment and nodded.

"Are the women treating you well?" he inquired. "The family are not cross because I will not marry one of their girls?"

"They are lovely," Kagome said tiredly and took place on a cushion by the table. "No-one mentioned anything. Your business with the Nawandhars is safe. I wish you'd tell me what you are planning." In the darkness of the room she could only see his white clothes, but not his face. There was a knock on the door; a young servant boy entered the room and waved two other servants to bring in a light meal. They put it on the table, lit the lamps to illuminate the room and left. Kagome served Sesshoumaru, who took the place opposite of her.

"Have some roti." When he took it, she deposited some sabzi and daal on a plate and put them in front of him. He delicately started to eat, using only his right hand. With amusement she became aware that although he kept to himself and refused to mix with humans when he was not required to, the taiyoukai had at some point started using Indian body language. It was very restrained, of course, and only occurred when he spoke Hindi, but it was still there in the tilt of his head and in the way he plucked a piece of flatbread with his right hand.

"You could tell me," she said then. "A secretary keeps secrets. It's in the word. If you tell me in Japanese, no-one will ever know. What are we doing here?"

"Enjoying a wedding," he said. "Aren't you?"

Kagome sulked, but admitted that, apart from a little melancholy she felt when she saw a young girl getting married, she indeed was enjoying herself.

"There will be music in the courtyard," she said. "Just in case you were wondering how to spend the evening. You should at least try to spend some time with Kishanlal and his family." She got on her feet again, distracted by the thought that Sesshoumaru in fact ate human food – if it was Indian - and then she turned away and walked out to the girls' rooms.

In front of the blue and pink painted door which led to the girls' quarters, Kagome stopped, head bowed, hand on the wood. She heard giggles and squeals, someone humming a tune, an admonishing voice of an elderly woman. Her body, so young in appearance, but inhabited by a far older soul, suddenly could not move to open the door and enter. She heard the voices from the inside coming closer to the door. Kagome turned around and ran up the stairs close by, which led to the roof.

There a warm wind carried voices from the courtyard. She took one step towards the edge, two steps. Stopped to look at the fortress towering over Jaisalmer. Finally, she sat down on a carpet which was laid out on the roof and kept her gaze on the northern road. Downstairs, music and everyday noise, talk and laughter set in.

She sensed someone step behind her, but did not turn. The demonic aura was nothing new to her, and she did not want to spoil the moment by talking to Sesshoumaru. He stood behind her, looking towards the northern road as they listened to the music.

"You feel it too," Kagome eventually said into the night air.

"Certainly," he said. "Why didn't you join the entertainment tonight?" he inquired.

Kagome held a hand to her bosom as if to ward her heart, and contemplated the dusty road. In the moonlight, a dust cloud rose; something was coming closer. In the courtyard, someone started singing a sad tune.

"Can you see dadiji down there?" She nodded towards the court where an elderly lady in an unremarkable white sari of a widow, who had been carried in by her strong young grandsons, was attended to by her two daughters-in-law. "She is sixty-nine, and she calls me her beti."

The taiyoukai said nothing, because there was nothing he could say.

"I could be her mother; she is thirty years younger than me. It's very odd. I feel very odd right now. I get to prance around with young girls, at the same time I get to choose a bride for you as if I were an older relative… no, of course I won't actually be choosing any brides for you," she said when she felt him tense behind her. "Just saying. I feel odd, and my birthday is in a week. I'll be a century old then, can you imagine… " her voice faded away.

The tune downstairs changed again, laughter floated up to them.

"Have you heard, Shah Jahan's favourite queen died a few months ago," she said suddenly. "I wonder how it may be to be loved as she was loved. Even if we leave India, we should return someday, in thirty, forty years or so, to see the Taj Mahal. If we live forty more years."

"What is the Taj Mahal?" Sesshoumaru asked. His voice was cautiously glad that she was steering away from the dangerous topic of her age.

"A building, without equal in beauty. A tomb."

"What use is a beautiful tomb to Mumtaz Mahal, a dead woman? Of what use is it to her husband?"

"I'm told such tings are romantic. I am sure we wouldn't know anything about that," Kagome said. "Look, that dust cloud is coming this way. A late guest for Nawandhar?"

"We shall find out."

**

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**

There was a loud knock at the gate, and a loud, in the sudden quiet almost unnaturally loud shout of '_chak de_!' repeated several times in front of the Nawandhar house. Kagome quickly rose, only to find herself pushed behind Sesshoumaru, who looked down with something she would have called anticipation if she hadn't known better. Everyone started to laugh and cheer at once, and the gate was opened to admit the visitor.

A man on a frisky white horse came riding in, jumped from the saddle and hugged Kishanlal Nawandhar and then his brother Raj. He was escorted to dadiji, to whom he bowed down deeply and touched her feet, while she touched his head in blessing.

This head! Kagome peered beneath Sesshoumaru's arm and finally stepped forward to stand next to him. The man wore a Punjabi turban in the palest pink with one triangular layer of black cloth on his forehead. The kirpan he had with him was sheathed on his back, and she guessed that it was no mere toy. All the girls and women seemed to blush behind their scarves when he came near them. He was greeted with a cup of chai and invited to wash himself and then have something to eat and join the family celebration. He nodded his thanks with a hand on his chest, and looked up to the roof where they stood.

It looked to Kagome as if the stranger had been wounded to the heart when he looked up and saw her. Perhaps, she added to herself, it was Sesshoumaru's face that had him stunned, because in all fairness, she had a scarf over her face and the taiyoukai, who was by far the prettier one of them, did not. The thought cheered her up as she took in the tall figure and the turban, the carefully trimmed beard and the eternally surprised look many Sikh men used to have because the turban pulled the eyebrows up.

"Dearest Kagomeji; Mazumdarji, come down and meet our friend!" Kishanlal called. "My good fiend Ranjit is here!"

**

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**

Kagome woke up by opening her eyes, and she knew exactly where she was. She had stopped being confused when she woke, oh, a long time ago, even before she was immortal. Being confused in the morning meant you did not live to see the evening.

It was late morning; the girls hadn't woken her up in her little room off to the side, but there was a cup of warm chai, some berries, fried pakoras and – truly luxurious – slices of an apple on a plate, probably from Himachal. She ignored the pakoras, had the tea and the berries, and looked at the apple, before she gingerly took one slice and nibbled on it.

Something glittered in the corner of her eye, but when she turned around; at first she did not see anything out of the ordinary. Then she breathed in so suddenly she almost choked on a bite of apple. A man came into view, or rather; he became solid, slowly gained colour and substance, until Ranjit Singh Bhudraja sat in front of her, quite too close to where she sat in her bed, wearing a kamiz and nothing else. Kagome wiped the tears from her eyes and drew a bed sheet over her knees and chest.

"You are a demon," she guessed. He frowned at her. "And that is a great turban. How long is your hair?" she asked. "What are you doing here, almost within the grasp of the Mughals?"

"I came to see my friends. And I found you. What a curious little thing you are, so small and so dangerous. Why is the Great Dog keeping you with him?"

"Because I am so charming?"

Ranjit frowned even more, if that was possible, and brought his face closer to her. "He would not touch the likes of you, human," he hissed.

Kagome brought her face even closer to his, until they sat nose to nose.

"If I scream, you'll just vanish, and I will look like a fool, I know that… but I will fry your pretty face just for fun if you don't leave me alone, how does that sound? I don't like getting into arguments over Sesshoumaru. He is his own dog. And it's too early in the morning to argue. Now," and she pushed her sheet aside and came to her knees, "if you don't mind taking yourself off, I'd like to get up and get dressed."

Something wild passed over his pretty face, but mostly he seemed surprised because the turban pulled his eyebrows up. "You are not afraid of me?"

"What are you, the Great Tiger? Get out of here, stupid!" Which he did.

**

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**

On the day on which the groom was supposed to come to the house to pick up Nidhi, the bride on his white horse, Sesshoumaru opened the door of his room when Kagome was passing his door, pulled her in and deposited her on a cushion on the floor, where she landed in an undignified pile of sari, petticoats, bangles and long black hair. Her bangles became entangled with his kurta, and they spent a minute releasing them.

"What have you done to Ranjit Singh?" he asked right away. "He has had his eyes on you since he arrived here."

"Oh, I wish you didn't do that," Kagome sighed and tried to pull her clothes straight. "I'm an old lady."

"What," he repeated and waited in silence.

Kagome had a mind to refuse him the answer, but then just said. "I did nothing; he came to my room yesterday morning and tried to… I don't know, find out whether I was dangerous, I suppose." She smiled to herself, but then became serious. "How do both of you know each other? What is he doing here?" she asked. "I thought I knew of all your dealings in the last half-century or so."

"We knew of each other from before you came to me," Sesshoumaru said. "We've done business before. This is the first time we actually meet in person."

"And…?"

"I fear this is none of your business."

"Well, thank you," she murmured. "He just stalked me the last twenty-four hours or so."

"We might get you married off at long last," he said. "Kishanlal thought you might find a fine husband here in Rajasthan."

Kagome groaned something about people who did not practice their humour enough so it was rusted and left the room.

**

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**

The day started with Ganesh puja. Kagome enjoyed the moment, because she knew from previous weddings she had been invited to that this was to be the last peaceful moment until next morning.

Raj had coins and sweets given to everyone on the street who happened to be in the vicinity. The servants cooked and baked and prepared food since before dawn. The guruji who was to join the couple in matrimony sat on thick cushions in a darkened room, entertained alternatively by different members of the family. A servant boy fanned him with a large feather fan and another served him cool nimbu-pani. Since Kagome had proved very good at it, she spent the morning stringing together nimbu and mirchi to ward off the evil eye. Until noon, she had several of those hanging just about everywhere in the house. Other people decorated the house with lamps, long trains of colourful cloth in Rajasthani patterns, precious rugs and strings of flowers in all colours. Vidyalakshmi, who was an accomplished artist, dug out her Holi powders and painted a dust picture in the middle of the courtyard.

The women washed, one after the other, in the small room in the girls' quarters. They emerged, smelling of sandalwood and cinnamon and perfumed oils on their skin. Then, about an hour after the sun had started its descent towards the west, they started dressing the bride. Nidhi's face received a very light coating of pearly powder, and her eyes became dark and mysterious with the use of some kajol, a bindi between her eyebrows. They put perfume behind her ears and below her navel, in all the little secret and not so secret dips of her body. Her feet were washed and powdered, and payal of gold fastened around her ankles. They reminded Kagome of shackles, but she shook the thought away – Nidhi seemed composed.

Kagome helped tie the red ghaghra and watched how the women put the choli on Nidhi and tied it in the back. Then Lakshmi, the bride's mother, combed her daughter's heavy black hair and arranged it in a dark coil in her neck, fastening it with gold chains and combs of ivory and pearl. Vidyalakshmi, the sister of the bride, approached with a small wooden case from which she took a golden chain with an ornament. Lakshmi fastened it over the partition in Nidhi's hair so it hung onto her forehead. With her short sleeves in place, Nidhi was ready to receive her bangles, and so Kagome started on the left arm, while Shruti and Priya took the right. In the end, Nidhi's arms were covered in gold almost to the elbow. Then Kishanlal's wife Sanjana reached for another pretty wooden box and fastened earrings to Nidhi's ears, one of them connected by a golden chain link to the large thin golden ring that went right through the bride's pierced left nostril.

After hours of work, Nidhi looked like a red and golden goddess, just as intended. She sat in the middle of the room, looking a little forlorn while all the unmarried girls around her started looking for their own attire, changing their minds and swapping jewels and clothes, tugging at their clothes and each other, calling each other names and laughing. From time to time one or more of them would try to make her eat something, but all she would consent to was a little lassi. Kagome stood undecided, but then Nidhi looked at her.

"Didi, you're not dressed yet?"

Kagome screamed in horror and ran to her room.

**

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**

Sesshoumaru passed the girls' quarters already dressed in creamy white kurta_-_pajama with golden embroidery which went well with his eyes, a long shawl which changed colours from red to gold and back, depending on the light, and a red Rajputi turban on his head. The noise coming from the room sounded like a war had started. He shook his head and wanted to proceed to a quieter place when he saw Ranjit Singh sitting rather conspicuously close to the door, looking at it as if he expected Kagome to come out all dark blue, with her tongue sticking out and six additional arms. He was still unsure whether the other demon would welcome the sight or be terrified.

"She is mostly harmless," he felt obliged to say.

"I wish you would tell me why you are keeping her with you," Ranjit said, looking darkly under his turban. Today he wore indigo and silver, to honour the occasion. "She is not your sister, you look nothing alike."

"You wound me," Sesshoumaru murmured.

"I regret this," Ranjit said, equally sarcastic. "I must be sure that she is no danger. I cannot read her."

"Then feel free to observe some more. She might prove to be a danger to you, though. And you look ridiculous. Kishanlal asked me whether you have come to offer for my sister."

There was a speculative look on Ranjit's face, as if he'd just had a revelation, but no answer.

With something that would have looked like a shrug on a lesser being, Sesshoumaru left the Punjabi to skulk in the corner, staring again at the door of the girls' quarters.

**

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**

The groom arrived with his wedding party after the sun had gone down. There were drummers, the groom's friends and then came he, all in gold and red and white. The groom arrived on a white elephant painted pink, green, orange, red and blue, decorated with flowers; Kagome gasped at the sight although she only saw it from her window in the torchlight.

Nidhi's parents already were at the gate, which was opened wide, along with the rest of the elder relatives. Lakshmi welcomed the young man with a garland of flowers, and in delight at how well he looked she made a gesture to ward him from the evil eye.

Under much ceremony he was taken to his place under the wedding canopy, where he waited for the bride. His friends started taking places, greeting the Nawandhar family and friends. The men and the women sat separated in the large courtyard that had been swept clean again around Vidyalakshmi's mandala of coloured powders and flowers on the floor just before everyone started arriving.

Then everyone shushed, sat quietly in anticipation. Kagome just barely managed to fit into the courtyard at the very back, right at the edge of the women's seating. She rolled her eyes when she saw Ranjit Singh take a seat next to Sesshoumaru, meaning that he sat almost right next to her, only a small path dividing them.

The bride was carried to the canopy in a closed palanquin, and Kagome thought that a very smooth move, since normally a sheet would be shielding the bride from the groom. Nidhi emerged, a vision in gold and red, head covered as it was fit for a bride, and walked a step to the mandap, jewellery chiming.

Kagome knew the rest; the parents gave over the bride, words and promises were exchanged, the guru would light the fire and the couple would walk around it, with their scarves tied together to symbolise union. Then the groom would close a necklace, the mangalsutra around the bride's neck and she would be his. Then everyone would get terribly happy and weepy, and there would be food and partying until late, probably until next morning, when Nidhi would leave her home to live with the Narayans, her new family.

Kagome suddenly needed to leave the courtyard. She looked around – the Punjabi was looking at her and she had a mind to tell him that he was a creep – but no-one else was paying any attention to her. She quietly, very quietly got on her feet and disappeared into the half-darkness of the house, not noticing the shadow trailing her.

She went to her room and sat on her bed, but soon stood up again. She walked out to the corridor and listened to the Sanskrit chanting from the courtyard. Such a lovely language – a pity she did not understand it. Kagome turned to the stairs and bumped into the one of the beturbaned men in the house into whom she did not want to run.

"Ranjit Singh," she sighed, and walked past him, brushing him aside. He half-turned to follow her, but she ran – only to be held back by their entangled scarves. She stopped, exasperated.

"Of all the stupid things to happen," she grumbled. He was already untying her dupatta from his.

"You, of course, know what this means, don't you?" he asked with a grin.

"Oh, please, as if!" As soon as the fabric was loose, she snatched it form his hand and walked briskly up the stairs to the roof.

**

* * *

  
**

"If a lady's scarf is tied to a man's, then there is a red thread between them, a connection that will eventually end in marriage," a voice said behind her, and a second later, the silver and indigo shadow that was Ranjit Singh took place next to her.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "My scarves get entangled with Sesshoumaru's every other day or so. It means nothing."

"But, he is your brother," he teased. Kagome remained silent.

"You are such an irritating female, and I cannot say why. You should talk to me; I wouldn't want to kill you without first finding out why I have the urge?"

Kagome knew that he was serious but she felt none of the icy fear she knew she should be feeling. Perhaps she was losing her instincts that had been honed by years of hunting Naraku.

"You seem like one of those demons who cannot make up their mind whether they want to kill me or molest me. Of course," she added, "some of them fancy both options. Perhaps you are a tad confused."

He laughed quietly, pleasantly.

"Do you think she will be happy in her new home?" Kagome asked. She could not talk to him about the discomfort they felt for each other, but she thought that if things were different they might have talked quite a bit.

"Like all brides, I suppose. I have seen her more often when she was a child. This little Nidhi, she is quite like you, without the layers and layers of other things. Very sensitive, too."

"What do you mean, like me?"

"I suppose she sees you for what you are. At least senses it. She knows things that will happen in advance. Animals love her. When she makes nimbu_-_mirchi, it works particularly well. Such things." The demon next to her played with his scarf and nibbled at one end. "Just like you."

"Do the people know?" She had no idea how the people here called women like her, but she suspected they might call them witches.

"It's in the female line of this house. That is why my family likes visiting here. Dadiji knows, of course. Lakshmiji knows, although she has no power herself. Sanjanaji as well, of course. They were both chosen by dadiji as brides for her sons because of their powers, or that of their families. The girl is still very naïve, she will require guidance."

"And they are marrying her off tonight. I felt bad about it in the last couple of days."

"Do not worry," he said. "The mother-in-law is a wise, powerful woman. She will guide her. Nidhi's nature was the reason she was chosen for their son's bride. As for the rest," he shrugged, "she will fare as all brides do in a new home."

"I wouldn't want anyone to choose a mate for me," she sighed.

"Look at the stars, so many," he said. "Which one is mine? How do I know it? My parents, who have been longer in this world, have had more time to find my star, so they will know."

"A poetic way of saying that you want to have someone else to blame?" Kagome looked up at the velvet blackness of the sky dotted with myriads of stars.

"If I kill you now, will he come after me?" he asked in a conversational tone.

"Yes. No. I don't know. I wouldn't like to find out, either."

"Are you not afraid at all?"

Kagome took his hand. "Claws," she commanded, and his hand transformed to a strong yellow paw with long retractable claws.

"I don't like doing this, and it will ruin my favourite skirt, but here, use your claws – no, your one claw, here," and she guided one sharp tip to the bare skin between the choli and the skirt, clearly expecting him to injure her.

"This does not make sense," he said. "Do you think I will let you live?"

But he slid his long nail into her flesh anyway, retracting it immediately. She sat quietly, trying not to whimper; then the pain dissolved and the deep wound closed quickly, leaving behind no scar, only a single drop of blood.

Sesshoumaru appeared like a ghost from the darkness and quietly, quickly was upon Ranjit Singh, shoving him far away from Kagome. Then he stood between them, looking first at Ranjit, then at Kagome.

"I see no reason why you had to behave in this manner," he said. "Have you both gone mad?"

Ranjit came back to sit on the carpet, quietly shocked. "Kagomeji, what are you?" he whispered.

"I… never mind. Sesshoumaru, I needed to explain to him, I really…"

"The whole situation is inappropriate enough without the both of you talking nonsense," Sesshoumaru said. "Alone, on the roof with a man – my sister? And then letting him injure you just because he said he would like to?"

He sat down and listened to the festivities downstairs. "We should conclude our business, and then you should be on your way, Ranjit Singh," he said. "It seems that Kagome's presence here is confusing you."

The Punjabi breathed in, and Kagome knew that he was trying to smell her. Then he nestled in his turban and produced something she could not see until Sesshoumaru was holding it in his hand.

The stone vibrated with fire, it was a brilliant clear diamond that drew Kagome's eyes into the depths, where she saw, she saw...

"Madness," Kagome whispered to the stone. "You are mad, you are dangerous," and she tried to take it from Sesshoumaru's hand, but he wouldn't let her. "What an unlucky stone," she sighed.

"It seems it was driving the both of you mad," Sesshoumaru guessed. "But perhaps it is not the stone, just nature."

"I know this stone," Kagome suddenly said. She concentrated again on the beautiful stone. Ranjit Singh came closer as well. "The Koh-i-noor! What is it doing here? It is supposed to be in Agra, or Delhi, with Shah Jahan! What have you done?" She shook with fear that he had done the one thing they were never allowed to do – change history.

"I heard the stone was unusual and dangerous," Sesshoumaru said. "I thought that if someone else heard of it they might covet it, so I secured it first. I will have no more incidents with stones if I can prevent them."

"The Syamantaka," Ranjit Singh added. "It was a great pleasure replacing it with a piece of glass."

"No wonder the Mughals don't like you," Kagome murmured. "This stone is supposed to be stolen in a few years, by Nadir Shah, not _you_, and taken to Persia, and then eventually it should end up in the British crown, _not_ in our hands! You have to return it!"

"Does she see the future?" Ranjit asked. Sesshoumaru and Kagome ignored him, engaging in a contest of will.

"I will not have the jewel stolen by someone who might use it for things you might not like and then insist on repairing the damage ourselves."

Kagome opened her mouth to contradict him, but it seemed he was right. She would, certainly, and he knew it. She pulled her odhani over her face to think.

"We must get rid of it soon," she said. "I don't want to get caught having it, and neither do you. Especially since it seems to affect those of feeble mind," she said with a glare to Ranjit Singh, who laughed and waited for her to realise that her words meant her, also, for she had been affected as well. "In time it will affect you as well. What do we do?"

"It has been a while, but I remember that you were talking about purifying the Shikon no Tama. Do you think you could do it with this stone as well?"

Kagome suddenly felt that she might have to kiss Sesshoumaru. She mercilessly subdued the impulse and cringed below her odhani because she hadn't thought of purifying the stone herself.

"It might take time," she said. "But you're right. And then we should return the jewel to its owner. History must not change."

"Exactly."

Ranjit Singh sat back and looked from one to the other. "You are not really siblings, the two of you, am I right?"

He found himself speared by two sets of eyes, one behind a veil of bandhni dyed orange organza, and remembered that there was a party going on downstairs, to which he was invited.

* * *

"You meant for me to purify the stone from the beginning," Kagome stated.

"Yes." He was sitting across from her.

"I hope you will be able to withstand the call of the diamond for a while until I am done."

"I will," he said. "Right now I feel no particular need to kill you."

"Ranjit Singh is an odd demon," she said.

"His father wrote that he is the softest of lions, as friendly as cats can get." Kagome felt a certain reserve in his voice – he still was a dog. "He probably was rather attracted to you, to react so strongly."

"Oh, we needn't worry about you, then," Kagome grumbled.

"No, we need not." And he looked again at the diamond in his fist, clenching it. "How long will it take you?"

"Several days, I guess." She stirred. Downstairs, the music had faded some time ago, the people sleeping in the courtyard and everywhere else, some chatting. The bride sat next to the groom, shyly, but she answered his questions; both of them could not sleep.

"We should leave for Agra, to return the stone to its owner," Sesshoumaru said. "You will have to celebrate your birthday on the road."

"Oh." Kagome had all but forgotten her woes. "Never mind. I'll just… "and her voice trailed off. Lots of big and small thoughts passed through her head, but then she only said, in Japanese:

"When we have returned the Syamantaka, we could go north, to Punjab maybe? I rather like seeing these men with turbans and beards. The Harmandir Sahib in Amritsar is supposed to be exquisitely beautiful. And in April or May we could go to the foothills of the Himalayas, perhaps in Himachal. They have apples, and perhaps hot springs. Can you remember hot springs in Japan?" She took off the silk that covered her face and looked straight at him.

"Sometimes I miss… myself." Her eyes welled with tears; she only sat down, crying noiselessly, fluid and _kajol_ running down her cheeks. Sesshoumaru wordlessly put a fine piece of cloth in her hand and left. After a while, she wiped her tears away with the piece of cloth, and blew her nose, only to realise that what Sesshoumaru had given her was her own orange odhani. Then she laughed.

**

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**

They stood in front of the gate and the whole Nawandhar clan came out to weep and fuss and say goodbye.

Ranjit Singh Bhudraja also came to the gate, bowing in front of her slightly with the palms of his hands clasped together in front of him.

"Sat Sri akal," he murmured. "I still want to slice you to ribbons, fair maiden, but I do realise that it is due to your very exquisite hair jewel. If we meet again after the danger is disposed of," he paused and drew breath. "I would really like to bother you in other ways."

"I think that you think that I should be flattered," Kagome said quietly to him. "But you are a dangerous cat, Ranjit Singhji, and I will keep that in mind." He smiled at her with his eternally surprised eyes, and retreated as Sesshoumaru brushed past Kagome on his way to the camels. Kagome felt a tug at her scarf and exhaled, rolling her eyes.

"Do wait, brother dear," she called, trying not to suffocate while her dupatta was drawn away from her because, most annoyingly, it had formed a knot with his.

Sesshoumaru very efficiently threw his scarf to her in a silent demand that she solve this problem and helped her up on her camel. They were going all the way east to Bharadpur and then Agra this way. She waved at the family and the house once again, then looked forward at the slowly rising heat, and smiled a faint smile.

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**A/N**: I wrote this because I loved RosieB's 5th chapter, because I wanted to write about a wedding in India, because I wanted to write about Indian food (I love it more than my knitting needles) and because I wanted to write about Kagome's 100th birthday coming up. Such fun.

The Koh-i-noor only got its name after it was taken from Shah Jahan in 1639, but Kagome would perhaps know it only by its name it has in the modern times. Perhaps she was interested in large cursed jewels (for rather obvious reasons) and stumbled upon the Wiki article. The Koh-i-noor is on display in the Tower of London along with the rest of the British crown jewels. Its ownership is disputed, as several parties claim it is theirs. It is also supposed to be cursed. The first mention of the stone is found in old Sanskrit writings, which claim that the stone came from the Sun god himself. (For more info, Google is a good friend, as is Wiki).

* * *

On with the Glossary (these are from my Hindi dictionary/course book/Wikipedia). The transcriptions are as I found them; Hindi doesn't always look good/accurate when it's written in English:

**Glossary**:

_bahinji_ = _bahin_ means sister, -_ji_ is a Hindi honorific suffix

_bandhni_ = tie-and-dye Rajasthani textile pattern

_beti_ = daughter

_bindi_ = Hindi for 'dot', mostly known as the thing you put in the position of your 'third eye'

_chaat_ = savoury snacks, very tasty but very often also very spicy. (_chai_ and _chaat_ = OTP)

_chai_ = hindi for tea; normally cooked with milk, lots of sugar and assorted spices

_chak de_! = Punjabi war cry: nowadays often heard in Punjabi disco music

_chappal_ = shoes, nowadays used for flip-flops, but also all kinds of fancy maharani shoes you get at Chandni Chowk in Delhi.

_choli_ = short (sari) blouse

_churiya-walla_ = _churiya_ is the plural for churi, which means bangles. _walla_ is probably best translated as 'entrepreneur'. There is a _walla_ for everything: tea, clothes ironing, all kinds of roadside food, computers, cows, dry cleaning, shoes, anything.

_daal_ = lentil stew, a little spicy, yellow with turmeric (Hindi)

_dadiji_ = _dadi_ means fraternal grandmother, -_ji_ is a Hindi honorific suffix

_didi_ = elder sister

_dhoti_ = a piece of cloth folded not unlike a _sari_, serving as trousers in super-traditional male dress in India

_dupatta_ = a scarf, can be worn with a female suit and/or with a skirt-_choli_ ensemble. Helps to observe _purdah_

_ghaghra _= a long Rajasthani skirt

_haveli_ = a house type, commonly found in Rajasthan, but also in Delhi, etc.

_Harmandir Sahib_ = the Golden Temple in Amritsar

_Himachal_ = Himachal Pradesh is a state in the Punjab region in North India, it looks like Bavaria, only not so clean, and they have apples there, and trout in some places. (A great place if you don't go there in the winter.)

_kajol_ = khol, used to paint eyes dark

_kamiz_ = anyone speaks French here? Same roots as _chemise_. The female version of _kurta_. A long shirt, normally worn with _salwar_

_kurta-pajama_ = an ensemble not unlike _salwar-kamiz_, only for men

_kirpan_ = Sikh sword

_lassi_ = a milk-based beverage, not unlike yogurt, can be sweet or salty, sometimes with fruit added (eg. mango) cf. Turkish _ayran_

_mandap_ = a canopy under which the actual wedding ceremony is taking place

_mangalsutra_ = a necklace which the groom puts on the bride during the wedding ceremony – a sign of marriage

_mehendi_ = henna; women put it on hands, arms and feet for special occasions and when they get bored.

_mirchi_ = chilli

_nimbu_ = lemon

_odhani_ = basically a long piece of cloth, normally very elaborate; one end is tucked into the skirt and the rest is worn over the head (see _purdah_)

_pakora_ = veg or meat or… things… dipped in batter and fried (delicious!)

_pani_ = water

_payal_ = anklets

_purdah_ = Women in Rajasthan were (and sometimes still are) required to cover their faces before men. This custom is said to have been imported to India from elsewhere.

_puja_ = prayer

_roti_ = flat Indian bread which is used to shovel food into the mouth, mostly in North India

_sabzi_ = pronounced _sabji_, means vegetable (I think this is Urdu)

_salwar_ = trousers, worn with a _kamiz_, this ensemble (_salwar-kamiz_) is sometimes called _suit_ (in modern India)

_Sat Sri akal_ = a greeting in Punjabi


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N (AND YOU OUGHT TO READ IT, REALLY.)**

**This chapter is just after RosieB's Chapter 7. Before you ask, yes, she's read it, and this is posted with her permission, no matter how horrified you'll be at the end.**

**I totally stole some of her lines and some of her OCs, too.**

**If you'd like to keep on thinking that Kagome should love Sesshoumaru and only Sesshoumaru, I'd suggest you don't read this.**

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**

**Triberg 1649, evening of the feast**

**

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**

The night was relatively warm. Kagome counted the demons around her. Her dress was a light blue with a white shawl draped over her shoulders for warmth. Her face was serene, even smiling when she turned her attention to things at hand again.

There was dinner, and dancing. The demon people went to the dance floor in fours, coming together and apart to the tune. Kagome vaguely remembered a history movie she'd seen, oh, almost a century ago. The scene was not as colourful as the movie had been, the dresses more subdued in tone and the music only as loud as the instruments would give without electricity. With sudden pain, she missed the old TV set in the living room of the shrine house, the quiet rustling of tatami on the floor and the cosy warmth of the kotatsu on winter evenings.

Sixteen years in the castle, and she only had a handful of friends. She'd known the whole town of Surat within a year, and been on good terms with most. While her mind knew that staying here was important for Sesshoumaru, she also knew that she was wilting.

For a moment, she thought she saw Sesshoumaru in the distance, his clothes light green to the countess' darker green dress. She grinned at the thought that he looked washed out, but then turned away and left the great hall and its sparkling chandeliers. No-one stepped in her way. In the relative darkness of the hallway she sought a dark alcove and sat down, sighing. Through a window she saw the bright full moon, a few stars that were bright enough not to be obscured by the moonlight, and clouds flying swiftly east, driven by the west wind.

She felt Brandt just before he came into view, in all his terrible glory, with burning hair and pale eyes. As usual, he seemed annoyed at her.

"Guten Abend," she said.

"My, are we polite tonight," he sneered. He had never made any secret of his dislike for her. "Lord Sesshoumaru is being most inattentive to the countess on account of looking around for you," he said, but it did not sound as if he were sorry for either Sesshoumaru or the countess. Kagome, yet again, wondered whether he was in love with the countess or just jealous of Sesshoumaru's position within the Echidna. After sixteen years, she still could not tell.

"Your pup is in the stables, just in case you wanted to know," he said. "I think he might have changed his mind…"

"So he isn't leaving after all?" Kagome asked despite her resolve not to give Brandt any hints as to how she felt.

Brandt, true to his name, smiled and let her burn in silent curiosity for a moment, then he touched her thumb with one of his fingers, as he sometimes, very rarely did, as if to burn her for real – which in reality he would not dare – and said:

"No, I think he is leaving tonight."

Kagome was on her feet in an instant. "He said he'd…"

"Yes?" Brandt prompted, always eager to find something new to torture her with.

"Thank you, Brandt," Kagome gasped, shaking his presence from her mind like a tree would shake a dead leaf, and she left him standing there in the hallway while she first walked, then ran downstairs to the stables, still in her ball gown.

Brandt touched the finger that had had brief contact with her skin to his chest and stared into nothing. He played with his life when he touched her, but sometimes he had to touch her just to feel alive. Mostly, he hated himself for it, but not tonight, because tonight, with its full moon, was different. He slowly returned to the great hall only to find Sesshoumaru at the entrance. He bowed very briefly to him.

"I thought I saw Kagome," Sesshoumaru said.

"She ran after the wolf," Brandt said with a shrug.

When Sesshoumaru calmly turned to walk after her, Brandt stood in his way.

"What do you need her for?" he asked, quietly. "Everything you might need is here among your people, and you know – you _know_ you should have gotten rid of that one long ago. She is a liability to you and to us and…"

Sesshoumaru felt weary, because he could not just kill Brandt and be done with it. Again his subordinate position in this place came to his mind in full force. Politics dictated he leave Brandt alive, no matter how much it irked him.

"I have a responsibility," he said curtly. "She came before you, and you will get out of my way, Brandt."

"If she takes off with the wolf, you'll be rid of your oath," Brandt suggested.

Sesshoumaru considered this for a moment. "That will not happen," he said. But he traced back his steps to Gisela's side and let the sounds of the ball envelop him again, yet only for a moment. It was not like him to change his mind all the time; nevertheless, he took his leave from the countess for the evening and left the feast. Gisela's eyes bored fiery holes into his retreating back until Brandt came around and laughed at how obvious she was with Sesshoumaru in front of all her subjects.

Sesshoumaru walked downstairs, slowly as if he was afraid at what he'd find there. His hair shone in the moonlight, so he tied it to a tight bun and went on. He assumed Kagome and her lame wolf would be in the stables, saying goodbye. It was not as if he were suspecting her of wanting to leave him with Ranulf, but then again, Ranulf's words that afternoon had somewhat shaken him:

"She is your unfaltering companion, but she is bound to you by responsibility only. Do not let that responsibility take away the one corner of her heart that is not consumed by her sadness at this half life she leads with you!" he'd said. He had compared her with the sun, as opposed to his ice.

Sesshoumaru had never had much use for the sun; he did not freeze in the cold and he could see in the dark. Yet since this afternoon he caught himself wondering briefly what Kagome might want out of life. He'd trapped her in this fortress for sixteen years. For a noble cause, of course, and she'd offered to help – although they never let her – but still. Perhaps being with the wolf was something she wanted out of life?

The demon lord stood in front of the stable door, thinking about going in, but then he saw a hem of a blue skirt and stopped just behind the wall. Let them talk it out, he thought. He might just as well look at the moon in the meantime. If Kagome felt like leaving with Ranulf, then he still could… what? Intervene? Or let her go? He would think of that when the question presented itself. So he masked his presence and waited quietly.

Kagome stood in the stables and looked at Ranulf as he took up the saddle to put it on the horse.

"Put the saddle down, please, or I swear I'll burn you," she whispered. She was not quite sure he had heard her until he put down the saddle and turned to her. Of course he had heard her with his demon ears.

He turned to her and she saw his eyes red and his face more demonic than she had ever seen it. The softness was gone from his features, the nice gamekeeper lost to her, so it seemed.

"I thought you wanted to come say goodbye," she said accusingly.

Ranulf made a fist and shrugged. Kagome came closer to him but stopped when a look from him froze her in mid-step.

"He killed you," she stated.

"I think he did," Ranulf admitted calmly. "I think he killed everything in me."

"And here I am, not here to bring you any good news, either," she said.

"I know you are not, otherwise you would've come around to see me this afternoon," he said. "I do see now," and he looked at her with those icy blue eyes of his, "that no matter how often you say that you love me, you will always be his. His toy, his pet, his creature."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kagome said unsteadily. "I am not…" But she stopped. Was she not?

Ranulf only smiled humourlessly and turned to take up the saddle, only to find Kagome under his hands, stopping him from going on.

"I don't want you to go like this. You are not like this, please. Let's talk."

He picked her up by the shoulders, lifted her right up so her feet did not touch the floor any longer, as if to put her aside, but Kagome shifted in his grip so he had to lean on the wall in order to keep himself from losing his balance. Kagome would know how, he thought. Still he kept her in the air.

"What am I to do with you?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "What would you like to do? You might never get the chance to do anything again."

His face went back to the grim mask he had been wearing until a minute ago.

"You might kiss me," Kagome suggested.

"I could put you on my horse and take you away from here," he said. "Such a good idea. What do you think?"

Kagome seemed to consider it while her feet still did not touch the ground, but she shook her head.

"You have no idea how tempted I am, but you might be right, and I am Sesshoumaru's toy, his pet, his creature. No matter what comes next, Sesshoumaru was here first, and my duty is to him before all else. My promise, my life, anything."

"Your anything."

"You know he's everything to me. While he is nothing. My eternal life, and he is the only thing that will stay permanent. I cannot leave him."

Ranulf put her back on the ground, but tugged her gently into his warm, strong embrace. She came right up to his chin. Kagome inhaled his smell, one she might never get to smell again, and started to cry into his shirt.

"You know, for all you're here, and ruining my shirt, I'm the one who should be crying," Ranulf said to the top of her head. "You'll live a long happy life with that… person, and I'll be rotting away here in the middle of Schwarzwald, not knowing whether you'll remember me at all."

Kagome smiled through the tears. "I'll always remember you," she said. "And the ones that live longer have longer to remember and regret."

"You are still not used to living this long," he said.

"No, but I'm getting by. I guess it might be easier on Sesshoumaru, because all of you demons expect to live long, if not forever." She sighed and lifted her head, and he kissed her, first her tears, then her lips.

Kagome had always enjoyed kissing Ranulf. There was a healthy, down-to-earth attraction to him, probably something about his broad shoulders that would appeal to any woman, not only her. But for all his strength and size, he was a gentle wolf, and tonight he was kissing her with an exquisite desperation which held its own fascination. So she kissed him back, equally desperate.

Outside, Sesshoumaru came back from his reverie of the silver moon and found himself an unwilling audience to what seemed to be a make-out session. He quickly took his leave and walked over to a huge black oak which stood in the courtyard and which reminded him of a tree he'd once seen in Japan, an eternity ago. Inuyasha had been pinned down to that tree for a long time. Sometimes a dog needed a tree to help him bear the weight of the world.

Forgetting his dignity and his fine green clothes for once, Sesshoumaru climbed the tree and found a good place to sit and keep watching the moon. He did not want to go back inside to the feast, the countess and her fiery shadow Brandt, and his empty bed still held no appeal, despite his tiredness. He hadn't had the opportunity to rest since his return from Sweden.

_Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,  
When I against myself with thee partake?_

Shakespeare had sent those lines to him, and he had never known what he meant by that. Now he was dead, of course, and he could never ask him. Sometimes he thought back at that scrap of paper – and he could have sworn he still had it somewhere, perhaps tucked away in a vault in London he and Kagome had prepared for the case they had to leave Britain suddenly. Perhaps he still had it in Surat somewhere, or maybe in Delhi, Agra or Amritsar, where they had their little treasures hidden well away from prying eyes. Maybe he'd left it in Japan with Jaken? Kagome must have packed it away somewhere, he would ask her when she… Oh, he'd gotten used to being able to fall back on her, not his pet, his toy, or creature, but probably, as she had put it just back there, his everything… and his nothing.

And while Kagome and Ranulf walked towards Ranulf's rooms, quietly talking, Sesshoumaru sat in the tree. A moment later, inside, behind glass, Kagome lit a candle which illuminated her silhouette on the curtain for a moment, and Ranulf kissed her neck and slid the fabric from her shoulder.

The candle sputtered and died; and Sesshoumaru slept in the crown of the tree, dreaming of William Shakespeare and the sun.

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End file.
